


Hot Enough for Lobsters

by SkinwalkerSkiddo



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: And a hint of voyeurism, Bathing/Washing, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, Rickyl, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:56:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkinwalkerSkiddo/pseuds/SkinwalkerSkiddo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kinkmeme Fill: Daryl doesn't do so well with intimacy so Rick suggest a bath together to try and help. </p>
<p>Loads of silly bath time fluff, beard love, and a nice little dash of smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Enough for Lobsters

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this prompt on the kinkmeme a while back and just had to give it a go! http://twd-kinkmeme.livejournal.com/5396.html?thread=8040468#t8040468
> 
> Not sure if it is exactly what the prompter had in mind but I had a lot of fun writing it and hopefully they will like it. I hope you all enjoy it too!

 

Daryl could't get his belt buckle unlatched.

 

He had managed to navigate the stupid, tiny, _fiddly_ buttons of his shirt with relative ease considering what a wreck his damn nerves were but once the ratty fabric was hanging open and his fingertips had drifted down to his waist his hands started shaking. 

 

Christ help him if he knew why this was so fucking terrifying. 

 

He and Rick had…done things before. That train of thought was interrupted by echoes of his brother's taunts and that gravelly bark he'd called a laugh. _Ain't no surprise a man in his damn forties got his panties in such a twist when he's never even been past second base with anyone. You're a damn marvel of nature Darylena, like one of 'em sea slugs that only ever fucks itself._

 

Daryl bristled. 

 

He and Rick _had_ done things. Things like making out like horny teenagers whenever a free moment presented itself but they had never gotten very far past anything below the belt thanks to Daryl's raging anxiety about anything the least bit intimate. Hell he hadn't even been able to work up to sleeping in the same bed with Rick now that they were settled in their house in Alexandria. A lifetime of abuse and insecurities sure did wonders for a guy's view on intimacy.

 

But he had been getting better, he would give himself credit for that. 

 

The days were long gone when he flinched anytime Rick's touch lingered on him when they were out where the others could see. In fact, these days Daryl found himself craving that contact and the comfort and security and sense of home it provided, even seeking it out himself at times. An arm slung round his shoulders, hands and legs bumping together as they walked too close side by side, a brief and sometimes not-at-all-brief kiss before they went their separate ways for the day, long minutes spent kissing and groping out on the couch before Daryl would lose his nerve and slink off to bed. 

 

Rick had been so understanding with him. The man deserved a damn medal for his endless patience and the chronic case of blue balls Daryl was sure he had by now or maybe just someone that could give him what he needed but so far at least, he showed no sign of wanting anyone but Daryl. 

 

He would kiss and touch and dirty talk as long as Daryl could stand it and when Daryl had all he could take he would ease back without protest and Christ did Daryl love him all the more for it. 

 

Earlier that evening, after spaghetti for dinner, after tucking the kids in for the night, Judith with her nightlight and stuffed rabbit and Carl with a fresh stack of comic books Daryl had found that day on a run, after sprawling out on the couch—sprawling out on top of Rick—and kissing and petting and gasping until Daryl jerked away with a curse and a punch to an undeserving throw pillow, Rick suggested a bath. A bath _together_.

 

The days of privacy had died when the world did so seeing one another's naked skin was nothing new. They had seen each other, all of each other plenty of times during fast dips in frigid creeks and in the not much warmer communal showers back at the prison. But the closeness of being naked and in a bathtub together, now that would be something new. And terrifying.

 

So here he was still trying to get his _fucking_ belt buckle undone.

Then Rick was stepping into his space to save him from himself, close enough that Daryl could feel his body heat against his skin even in the close, humid air of the little bathroom but even then Rick still didn't touch him without his okay first. 

 

He gave his consent with a brief jerk of a nod and then Rick's steady hands were gently guiding the cracked leather of his belt through the clasp until the two ends were separated. 

 

Daryl sucked a long, slow breath in through his nose when Rick's fingers brushed against his fly. Blue eyes looked right through him and he caught them, held on tightly to that grounding, confident, easy gaze, and let Rick fold his fingers in against the button and zipper of his pants which were quick to give way under his deft touch.

 

Daryl closed his eyes and focused on trying to steady his heartbeat. 

 

Rick helped him finish undressing with tender care, carefully folding and setting his filthy clothes aside like they were actually worth something and not just another shirt he'd unceremoniously ripped the sleeves out of and pants that at this point were more patch than actual garment but that he still insisted on wearing because they were comfortable _dammit_. While Rick tended to his clothes Daryl finished kicking off his underwear and socks and once he was bare as the day he was born Daryl couldn't hold back any longer. He started trembling. Badly. 

 

"Rick, m'sorry I—"

 

Rick stepped in front of Daryl and wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close and Daryl bit back a sob. The older man gentled him with broad sweeping strokes of warm, calloused hands over his bare back and shoulders and Daryl buried his face against Rick's neck to breathe in his comforting scent. 

 

"You're doing fine," Rick's voice was a rumbling purr against his skin and Daryl leaned further into him. "S'alright. Just you and me here." 

 

This was Rick. His Rick. And his Rick would never push or take or demand anything from him. He knew he would never take more than Daryl was willing to give him, never thrust him into something he wasn't yet ready for. Something he was starting to wonder if he would _ever_ be ready for.

 

Daryl wanted to give him more. So much more, Christ did he ever, but he just hadn't quite been able to get there yet. 

 

"You want to help me with mine?"

 

Swallowing hard, Daryl nodded against Rick's shoulder and leaned back. He appreciated the clever distraction. 

 

Rick knew he could never get enough of running his hands over that hard, lean body. Rick's form had been sculpted out of sweat and blood sacrifices and made to survive in spite of everything in this world that was trying its damnedest to rip him apart. It wasn't perfect; middle age was showing up in a few wrinkles here and looser skin there and the faintest freckled beginnings of age spots from too much sun on his arms were imperfections that Daryl still saw beauty in. 

 

He had scars too, like Daryl but not like Daryl. No in his mind, Daryl's scars were ugly sins carved into his flesh from a past life of being too weak to save himself. He had found his peace with them in recent times but they were nothing to admire or study or press a mouth against in reverence, as he did with the short, thin white line left by a blade just under Rick's clavicle. _A run in with an old friend,_ he'd said lifetimes ago in a prison yard. 

 

Daryl's scars were old tracks on an abandoned trail left by a long dead animal. Weathered and worn by time with no life left in them. 

 

But Rick's scars were living and _beautiful_ and they had stories to tell. The fact that he already knew most of them thrilled him.

 

The enormous old claw foot tub was almost as full as it would be safe to get it and still fit two grown men in without flooding the floor by the time Daryl got Rick's shirts off and his belt and jeans opened up.  

 

"Hang on a second." Rick stepped away to shut the faucets off and then he reached into one of the cabinets beside the sink to pull out a couple of candles and a box of matches. Daryl smirked, already feeling more at ease.

 

"Ain't you the romantic."

 

Rick chuckled and struck a match against the striker strip on the box. After the candles were lit and set on the countertop he switched the overhead light off and the small room slipped into darkness except for the warm orange glow thrown off by the candles.

 

"That I am." 

 

Rick finished disrobing and stepped into the tub first. He hissed softly as the steaming hot water lapped at his naked legs and louder when it rushed on up over his hips and waist as he lowered himself in. He settled with a groan of pleasure, his arms bent and resting on the edge of the tub and his legs parted in what should really be an obscene spectacle but in this quiet, intimate moment it struck Daryl as nothing but relaxed confidence. 

 

Still, his gaze couldn't help but roam across shadowed planes of flesh. And he could already feel his nerves starting to get the better of him again and he started to fidget. 

 

Rick noticed. He reached out and wrapped a warm, wet hand around Daryl's wrist.

 

" _Hey._ We're not doing anything you don't want to do here. Well, nothing besides getting cleaned up, anyway. I know you ain't too keen on that," he teased with that stupid perfect smile that had really had no right looking so sweet and boyish with that thick greying beard framing it. Daryl snorted and reached into the tub to flick water at him but Rick caught the direction of his gaze and Daryl was being pulled down for a slow, sweet kiss that made his fucking toes curl against the fluffy bath mat under his feet.

 

He had just barely gotten his tongue past Rick's lips when the other man pulled away and the bastard had the nerve to grin at the soft, needy whine that escaped Daryl's throat.

 

"C'mon in. Water's fine." 

 

Daryl swore as soon as he carefully stepped in between Rick's spread legs. "Fine if you are a damn lobster. Jesus, how can you stand it this hot?" 

 

"Give it a minute and it'll start feeling nice. S'good for sore muscles." He eyed the large, dark bruise spreading on Daryl's flank where he'd taken a tumble off his new bike earlier that day. Daryl growled in warning.

 

"Don't start, Mother Hen. I just slipped on some damn gravel, that's all. Didn't even scratch up the bike." 

 

"That's because it broke its landing on _you_ , Knievel. Now come on and sit down before the water gets cold." Rick held his arms open in invitation and Daryl blinked at him.

 

"Seriously?" 

 

"Seriously. I'm gonna make sure you wash behind your ears." 

 

Daryl groaned but complied, turning and easing himself down to sit between Rick's legs. The water sloshed as they shifted around until they found a position that was comfortable for both of them and then Rick's arms were wrapping around Daryl and pulling him back to rest against his chest. 

 

Once they were settled a low hum of contentment rumbled out of Daryl's throat. Rick was right. The damn near scalding heat of the water was seeping into his muscles and soothing away the dull ache in his hip from his spill off the bike and, more importantly, it was easing away the tension over the prospect of this new intimacy that had been humming like bees under his skin ever since Rick brought the idea up earlier that evening. He could feel himself relaxing and the rigidity of stress leaving his limbs as he practically melted back against Rick's solid form. 

 

He heard and felt Rick's amused chuckle and rolled his eyes, snagging Judith's rubber duck off the edge of the tub to toss it at him. Rick laughed again and pushed the toy away so it floated down towards their feet. 

 

"Hey now, don't be sore 'cause I was right." Rick nuzzled against his temple and Daryl watched Rick's dripping wet arm reach out for the wash cloth and bottle of body wash sitting on the edge of the tub. 

 

"That's that shit that smells like lavender isn't it?" 

 

"Mhmm. And I got some shampoo from Carol that smells like roses. Gonna have you smelling like a pretty bouquet of flowers by the time I'm done with you."

 

Daryl sat up with a snort of amusement and turned to face Rick, crouching on his knees between the other man's legs. "Let me do you first." Rick grinned. Daryl flushed and ducked his head. " _Stop_. You know that ain't what I meant."

 

"We're both naked in a bathtub. There's gotta be a little innuendo here and there." Leaving the wash cloth and bottle of soap to float on their own, Rick reached out and draped both arms loosely around Daryl's shoulders. He bumped their noses together before catching his lips in another slow, syrupy sweet kiss. 

 

It was Daryl that pulled away first this time and he smirked at Rick's soft growl of annoyance.

 

"Hand me that rose-smellin' shit."

 

Daryl had Rick slide back far enough to dunk his hair and then set to work lathering the shampoo through the long curls. Now that they were no longer on the road, caked in days and weeks worth of guts and grime, Daryl had discovered that Rick had surprisingly soft hair. His fingers often found their way into the thick strands, tangling and teasing through them and now with this golden opportunity for indulgence, he took his sweet time washing the dark curly locks.

 

Rick was practically purring by the time Daryl decided his hair was clean.

 

"Tip your head back." 

 

Daryl cupped some of the bath water into his hands and lifted it up to pour out over Rick's head. He carefully rinsed the soap from the other man's hair, being mindful to keep it out of his eyes, and once the water ran clear he pulled Rick to sit back up. 

 

"Now your beard," Daryl murmured, pouring more of the shampoo into his palm.

 

"You mind giving me a shave after while?" 

 

Daryl stared at him in shock and reached out to reverently cup his other hand around Rick's bearded jaw. "Don't you _dare_." 

 

Rick laughed and turned his head to press a kiss against Daryl's palm. "C'mon, I look like Grizzly Adams' grandpa. At least a trim?" 

 

"...I'll think about it. No promises though." He drizzled more of the shampoo into his palm and gently worked it through the thick, coarse whiskers of Rick's beard until it formed into a foamy lather. He grinned at the sight.

 

"Now ya look like Grizzly Adams' _great_ grandpa." 

 

"Oh do I? C'mere, you smartass." Rick laughed and reached out to dig his fingers into Daryl's side over his ribs. Daryl was decidedly _not_ ticklish so he most certainly did _not_ flail and frantically slap Rick's hands away.  

 

They called a truce after splashing an unfortunate amount of water out of the tub and onto the tile floor. Daryl settled down between Rick's legs again and set to work lathering up the washcloth. 

 

He ran it and his own soapy fingertips over the thick veins running along Rick's well-muscled forearms. From elbow to delicate wrist, pausing to lace his fingers with Rick's, who gave them a squeeze, then back up again and higher up to the thinner veins spiderwebbing under the soft skin of Rick's upper arms.

 

Daryl leaned close to chase the water droplets collecting on Rick's deltoid and in the gentle scoop of his clavicle with his tongue.

 

He felt the vibration of Rick's hum of pleasure against his lips and he mouthed his way up the older man's neck with soft, nibbling kisses. 

 

After a parting bite to Rick's jaw, Daryl sat back and ran the washcloth across the span of Rick's chest, admiring the disruption of the curls of wet hair there. He teased his soapy fingers through them, then across a nipple with the pad of his thumb. Rick hummed his approval and Daryl did it again before moving down to the old gunshot scar high over Rick's ribs. Time had made the angry redness of it fade but it was still an impressive starburst of scar tissue and Daryl ducked his head to press a tender, open-mouthed kiss over it while his fingers curled over the mirrored mark from the exit wound a few inches below Rick's shoulder blade. 

 

Rick's chest swelled under him as he sucked in a sharp breath.

 

"That's nice." 

 

Daryl snorted and scraped his teeth over the mark before sitting up and pouring more shower gel over the wash cloth. He ran it over Rick's belly and sides, grunting his thanks when Rick drew his legs up and turned around so Daryl could reach his back. 

 

As he ran the washcloth over the miles of tanned, naked, warm skin stretched across Rick's back, Daryl worked his fingers into the muscles of Rick's shoulders. He grinned at the groan it brought out of the older man.

 

"Christ almighty, you're good at that." Rick dropped his head down low and moaned again when Daryl pressed harder and swept his hands up Rick's neck towards the base of his skull.

 

Once he finished washing Rick's back he urged the other man to turn back around to face him. 

 

He lost his nerve to go much further though, ending the scrubbing of the soapy wet wash cloth at Rick's hips but Rick didn't seem to mind. Instead, he murmured a soft thank you against Daryl's shoulder and then met his gaze with a playful smile. 

 

"My turn now. Sit back down and let me have some fun too." 

 

Daryl complied, turning to reclaim his seat between Rick's spread legs. 

 

He shuddered when warm wet lips brushed against the tattoo over his shoulder blade. Rick gently mouthed at the flesh there, slowly working his way up with a flick of tongue here and a drag of teeth there, until he was sucking a bruise into the flesh high on Daryl's neck. Goosebumps rose on Daryl's skin at the possessive marking and while his hair would hide it well enough he would still know it was there for days. He moaned softly and reached back to bury his fingers in the wet tangled curls of Rick's hair.

 

Breaking away from the mark on Daryl's skin, Rick pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Daryl's lips before leaning back to scoop up some water and gently pour it over Daryl's hair. Then he snapped open the cap on the shampoo bottle and squeezed a generous dollop of it fragrant stuff into his palm before working it into Daryl's hair.

 

With Rick's strong fingers massaging his scalp and teasing through his hair, his eyelids began drooping and his limbs grew heavy. He felt himself sinking further into the water and further back against Rick's warm, firm chest. The scents of roses and lavender and Rick's clean wet skin were filling his nose and he turned his head to press an open mouthed kiss against Rick's arm. 

 

Rick crooned softly and drug his nails gently across Daryl's scalp as he worked the shampoo into a thick lather. He stroked his rough fingers through the long strands, collecting them all together and pulling them back at the base of Daryl's skull. He hummed thoughtfully. 

 

"I have a proposition to make."

 

Daryl grunted in reply, too lazy to bother actually forming words at the moment. 

 

"I think I've come up with a compromise. I won't shave _much_ of my beard off if you wear this mane of yours like this some time." 

 

Daryl growled. 

 

"Why not?"

 

"Ain't wearing it in no damn ponytail. Ain't no girl," he finally replied with a huff. 

 

"It'd keep it out of your eyes," he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss high on Daryl's cheek near the corner of his eye. "Keep your neck cooler," his lips ghosted down Daryl's jaw to his neck where he laved his tongue against Daryl's carotid which was beginning to pound faster. "Not to mention I think you'd look sexy as hell," Rick scraped his teeth over the bruise he'd sucked into Daryl's neck earlier, "and you wouldn't be able to hide these anymore," he added with a teasing grin. 

 

Despite the still warm water, Daryl shuddered. "I…I'll think about it." 

 

Rick tenderly rinsed the shampoo from Daryl's hair, using one hand to comb through the tangles and the other as a shield to keep any of the suds from running into Daryl's eyes. Daryl closed them shut tight and took the opportunity to try and will away the all too pleasant heat that was coiling low in his belly.

 

The shift and press and lazy drag of Rick's warm skin against his own, points of contact practically everywhere, was doing _things_ to him.

 

Once Rick was satisfied that the water running off Daryl's hair was free of any soap he scooped up the wash cloth and the bottle of body wash that had been floating aimlessly next to Judith's rubber duck since Daryl used them. He squeezed some of the gel onto the cloth and then began working it into a lather over Daryl's wet skin. 

 

Daryl was really in trouble now.

 

He groaned softly as Rick took to rubbing his shoulders and back with the washcloth. He was acutely aware of every bump and ridge of scar tissue under Rick's touch but the other man didn't linger needlessly over any of them. He knew them all, knew who put them there, and he knew Daryl didn't like for them to be fussed over. Instead, Rick sucked another bruising kiss into the skin over Daryl's shoulder, laving his tongue against the mark before moving back up to mouth and nip at Daryl's neck.

 

"Lift your arms."

 

Daryl complied and Rick worked the washcloth down each of them, sweeping underneath and then down along his ribs and back up again.

 

Rick's cleaning was lazy and indulgent and by the time his hands worked their way down to rub at Daryl's belly and hips with the cloth he wasn't sure if he wanted to sleep or give in to the slow, easy seduction.

 

Maybe he could do this after all.

 

His blood felt thick and syrupy and it was slowly beginning to pool in his dick. Rick must have noticed because he was rumbling his approval and dragging the washcloth across Daryl's thighs. 

 

Apparently this was all having quite an effect on him too. 

 

The blood-hot heat of Rick's dick pressed like a brand against the small of his back and Daryl couldn't help the low, stuttering groan that tumbled past his lips. 

 

He did that to Rick. Him. No one else.

 

Rick wanted him. Him and no one else.

 

He lifted up and turned on his side just enough to plaster himself against Rick's front. And before he even really realized what he was doing, before he lost what little bravado he'd managed to muster up, he started skimming a hand down Rick's torso. 

 

His fingers bumped and drug clumsily against Rick's side and belly before drifting lower to stroke gently through the thatch of thick, dark curls between his legs. 

 

Rick murmured Daryl's name in quiet confusion and turned his head to nuzzle against the wet hair curling at Daryl's temple. He sucked in a sharp breath of surprise when Daryl's suddenly daring fingers wrapped around the base of his erection.

 

A ragged gasp of his own was startled out of Daryl when Rick's hot mouth closed around the lobe of his ear and Rick's groan of _fuck, Daryl_  against his wet flesh was so raw and open that Daryl couldn't help but tighten his fingers around his prick. 

 

He had no idea what the hell he was doing but the velvety soft skin in his grip inspired him to stroke his thumb along the length of it, the foreskin shifting and sliding back and Rick's hips stuttered against him in an aborted thrust. 

 

"Oh _fuck_ , Daryl."

 

Daryl's heart was beginning to pound too hard in his chest and his breath was coming too fast but he was a hard-headed son of a bitch and he wanted so damn desperately to be able to give this to Rick. 

 

Slowly, and completing lacking any finesse, Daryl pumped his fist over Rick's heat, trying to translate the motions he knew so well of his own hand on his dick to the language of pleasuring someone else. 

 

He startled when a too-loud groan tumbled past Rick's parted lips as his hips quickly began pushing up to meet Daryl's uncoordinated movements. 

 

"Shhh, s'okay. Like this," Rick's panted breathlessly against his neck with a scrape of teeth as his hand wrapped around Daryl's wrist, guiding his rhythm into something slower, something smoother. 

 

His was a touch well versed in giving pleasure.

 

Then Rick's hand slipped away to smooth across Daryl's hip and belly, down lower to where he could feel his own blood rushing to deliver Daryl a dose of that same toe-curling pleasure and just like that the spell was suddenly smashed to pieces. Everything was too much. Too much heat, too much stimulation and raw-nerve, bewildering sensation, too much skin too goddamned close and he had to get away so he could fucking breathe again.

 

Daryl jerked his hand back from Rick's heat like it burned him. His breath was coming in heaving, shuddering gasps and water was sloshing over the edge of the tub as he tried to scramble away. 

 

But he didn't get far, not when Rick wrapped those lean, strong as iron and hot as life arms around him, pulling him back to settle against his chest in the warm water and very probably saving him from busting his ass on the slick tile floor in his blind panic. 

 

Laying sprawled out on the floor with a broken tailbone and a stiffy was not how he wanted this evening to end.

 

Together they sat in silence for a long while. Rick kept a hand splayed across Daryl's ribs, Daryl knew so he could keep tabs on his slowly steadying heartbeat, and Daryl gradually sank down into the water so he could rest his head heavily against Rick's chest.

 

The crackle of soap bubbles popping against Rick's coarse chest hairs was loud this close and Daryl reached up to tangle his fingers in those dark brown and grey curls.

 

Rick crooned soft nonsense against the crown of his head and stroked his wet hair out of his eyes. Daryl groaned and ducked to hide his face against Rick's sternum with a great shuddering sigh.

 

"Fuck, Rick. M'sorry." 

 

"Hey, no. _I'm_ sorry _._ I got carried away and wasn't thinking."

 

"You didn't sign on for being with such a damn frigid coward and I—" Daryl bit back a sob and pressed his forehead harder against Rick's breastbone because like hell he was going to cry over being such a fucked up mess.

 

"Stop it." 

 

"I started it and was too much of a fucking pussy to finish—"

 

" _Stop_ , Daryl. The blame's on me here. I pushed when you weren't ready and I'm very sorry for that."

 

Daryl shook his head and made a sound of protest but Rick cut him off again, curling his fingers around Daryl's jaw. 

 

"Look at me."

 

Daryl turned his head to meet Rick's gaze. He was relieved to see no judgement there. No condescending pity. Just that same open affection and devotion that Daryl was sure he would never get used to seeing directed at him.

 

"That is something were are only gonna do when or _if_ you decide that it's something you want. We are not going to do it because you feel like it's something you have to do to make me happy. Because it sure as hell isn't." Rick rubbed at Daryl's neck and shoulders as he spoke. "I mean it, Daryl. I'm in this with you no matter what." 

 

A thousand things that he should say in reply caught on Daryl's tongue and finally he opted to simply lean up and kiss Rick. It was a gentle press of lips, no heat like earlier but instead full of gratitude and the words couldn't bring himself to say just yet. He hoped Rick knew though. 

 

When they broke apart he reached out and tangled his fingers through Rick's soapy beard.

 

"You got bubbles on your face."

 

Rick snorted in quiet laugher and reached out to collect some of the foamy suds still floating in the water on his index finger which he quickly dabbed on to the scruff on Daryl's chin before he could swat his hand away. "Now you do too," he murmured softly, leaning in to brush a kiss against the corner of Daryl's mouth.

 

The playfulness eased some of Daryl's worries but he still found himself needing to take a step back from this intimacy for a while.

 

"M'gonna turn in." He pulled himself away from Rick, needing the space, needing to collect himself, and stood. After he stepped out of the tub Rick's fingers brushed against his wrist. 

 

"You alright?"

 

"Yeah. Yeah, m'good."

 

Daryl quickly toweled off and pulled on the loose pair of pajama pants Rick had left folded on the sink counter for him. He slung a towel around his neck to catch the water still dripping from his hair and told Rick goodnight before slipping out of the humid room and into the cold, dry air of the dark hallway. 

 

He sighed and suddenly felt very tired.

 

That sure could have gone a hell of a lot better.

 

He stopped off in the kitchen to grab a glass of water and a tylenol for his hip because yeah, he was man enough to know he wasn't as young as he used to be and that he was likely gonna be sore as shit in the morning after falling off the bike. Besides, if Rick noticed him moving stiffly he knew he would never hear the end of it. 

 

He stared out the window over the kitchen sink for a while, watching a handful of fireflies flickering on and off in the darkness and wondering why in the hell Rick put up with him until his eyelids grew heavy and he decided to give it up for the night.

 

After downing the pill and the water his bare feet padded silently past the closed doors of the darkened kids' rooms. Daryl stifled a yawn.

 

He was bone tired, body and mind, and would have kept walking on down the hallway to his room to turn in for the night but for the odd, quiet sounds coming from the bathroom.

 

The door was cracked open from where the latch didn't catch right and Daryl hadn't bothered to jam it back shut when he left earlier. He was damn glad he hadn't now. 

 

Rick was still in the tub, his pale skin flushed and shining wet and slick in the light of the candles that were burning low. His head was bowed, water dripping from his curly hair back into the bath and and while Daryl couldn't see exactly where his hand was because of the rim of the tub he would be a fool to not recognize those rhythmic, indulgent motions. And even if he was the look of naked bliss on Rick's face would have made his actions obvious. 

 

He knew he should feel guilty, watching his man get himself off like some filthy peeping tom but Christ, he just couldn't tear his eyes away.

 

Rick was a fucking _masterpiece_.

 

He could feel his own blood starting to rush to his dick again and he reached down into his pants to grind his palm against himself for a little relief.

 

Rick tipped his head back, exposing the long, strong lines of his neck. His pulse was jumping in his carotid and his lips were parted to let out breathy little puffs of air and Daryl's mouth watered at the decadent sight of him. 

 

He couldn't see much of what was happening in the water from this angle and with the room so dark, but the soft glow of the candlelight was warm and bright against Rick's arm where the muscles bunched and flexed with every progressively faster pump of his fist over himself. 

 

The ghost of Rick's touch over his prick earlier in the tub haunted Daryl as he fucked into his own hand while watching Rick do the same. It had been the briefest brush of skin on skin but he knew without a doubt from that momentary spark of pleasure and from what he was seeing now that Rick had no problem giving in to carnalities of the flesh. His confidence and experience made him shameless in his pursuit of pleasure and Daryl knew then that there was no _if_ he would ever be ready to let Rick have him but that there was undoubtedly a _when_. It might not be tonight or tomorrow but it would be soon. And it would be fucking _amazing_.

 

Daryl imagined it was Rick's hand on him again and that alone nearly sent him over the edge. 

 

What did send him over the edge a few moments later, tumbling head over heels into that white hot abyss and coming hard and too fast in his own fist with his teeth biting desperately into his lower lip, was when Rick squeezed his eyes shut tight with a low, ragged moan of Daryl's name on his lips as he found his own release. 

 

Daryl's legs had no interest in holding him upright but he succeeded in not falling on his face and used the damp towel around his neck to clean himself up. After tossing it into the hamper in the hall he pressed his forehead against the doorframe while he caught his breath, watching as Rick did the same. 

 

If he were younger Daryl could have gotten hard all over again at the sight of Rick in that tub, loose-limbed and relaxed after his orgasm. His head was still tipped back to rest on the edge of the tub and the hand that had been wrapped so tight around his prick only moments before was stroking long looping patterns into his own flesh, pausing to tease at nipples pebbled by arousal and the chill of the cooling water. He rumbled in contentment and Daryl wanted so badly to share in that quiet, tender moment with him. 

 

He knew he would someday soon. As frustrating as today had been he still made progress. He had gotten a little closer to that end goal that for once didn't feel like it was a thousand miles away. But he was ready to take one more leap before the day was over.

 

Daryl knocked softly on the door and cleared his throat.

 

"Hey Rick?"

 

A low, questioning hum answered him and Daryl smiled softly as he leaned his head back against the door frame and closed his eyes. 

 

"Can I stay with you tonight?"

 

END


End file.
